


Just One Last Sacrifice

by Shugs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gates of Hell, Hurt Dean, Self-Sacrifice, Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:49:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5491079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shugs/pseuds/Shugs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story follows episode 9x13 - The Purge, when Sam admits to Dean that he wouldn't have saved him had their situations been reversed.   With the tension between them coming to a head, the revelation sends Dean into a tailspin where the only road to redemption he sees, involves pursuing the trials he stopped his brother from finishing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To kill a hound of Hell

Just One Last Sacrifice  
Chapter One - To kill a hound of Hell  
  
Sam sucked in a breath as he pulled his bedroom door open and took a glance out into the main room. The bunker was quiet and the table just as cluttered as it had been the night before. He let out a sigh as he mentally prepared himself for the hostility he would face following last nights moment of truth, when Dean asked if he'd have done the same to save him had the situation been reversed... and he said no. While the revelation had lifted a load off his chest, he knew his harsh yet true words would without a doubt haunt his older brother. They didn't see eye to eye anymore and while he was ready to accept that, Dean just wasn't willing to.  
  
He eyed his brother's closed bedroom door as he passed, wondering if the other man had even made it that far after the bombshell he'd dropped last night. It was like debating politics or religion, different people had different views and that's all there was to it. Sam made his way into the small kitchen, relieved to find that Dean had at some point gone to bed, but not before downing half a bottle of Whisky. He grabbed a plate from the counter and started on his breakfast, his eyes glancing back towards his brother's closed door. Bottom line was that after everything they'd been through together, he'd do what he could to respect the other man's wishes. He'd expected the same in return, but Dean had done nothing but prove he'd do whatever he could not to end up alone. Sam let out a heavy sigh as he thought it all over in his head, dreading the moment Dean's door would open. Because after last night, he knew things between them would never be the same.  
  
***************************************  
  
Dean eyed the room carefully and his grip on the angel's blade tightened as the low snarl of a Hell Hound echoed down the hall. "Just stay in the circle and you'll be fine." He whispered to the man cowering in the corner behind him. Though the stranger had brought this down upon himself when he made that deal ten years ago to the day, Dean was there to save him because that's what he did. Saving people, hunting things. That was his job or at least it use to be, back when things were that simple. Sam's words the night before had cut him right to the core, truth just as sharp as the blade in his hand. Sam was right and it was time to face it, he did fear being alone and being the hero was the only thing that gave him a sense of purpose, a reason for him to keep going. It was one line after another, excuses to justify his actions; he had no other choice, it was his job to look out for Sammy, they were blood, they were family. Reality was that he had no one else, and letting go of Sam would mean he'd be left to face his own demons alone.  
  
He swallowed hard as the menacing snarl of the beast grew closer, its massive steps coming to a stop just outside the door. He drove hours just to get there, it was the only case he could find that would give him what he needed. "Whatever you do, stay in the circle." He whispered to the man as he stepped out of it to face the demonic dog head on. In a matter of only seconds, sharp claws were in his chest and he was knocked to the floor. Powerful jaws clamped down around his forearm and he let out a cry, his mind racing back to when such a beast had dragged him to Hell. It pulled him near with a jerk of it's head and when Dean felt the beast's sharp teeth pull free from his torn flesh, he knew now was the time to strike. Before it could clamp down around his throat, the hunter plunged the blade deep into its chest. He could feel the warmth of its blood as it ran down the sharp blade and onto his hand, trailing down his arm like a stream and pooling on his chest. Bearing the dead weight of the Hellhound, Dean struggled to sit up, tossing the beast aside as he pulled the long silver blade free. This is how it should have gone down the first time around, this is the way it was supposed to be all along. He swore under his breath as he put a hand to his chest, feeling the gouges in both his clothes and his flesh. *One down, two more to go.* He thought to himself as he eyed the blood on his hands and the Hellhound on the floor.  
  
***********************  
  
Sam paused for a moment as he eyed the closed door in front of him. "I'm gonna go out to pick up a few supplies, you want anything?" He asked simply. When he didn't get a reply, he leaned in close to see if he could hear the other man. "Look, I know you're still mad about last night, but I can't change the way I feel. Doesn't mean I don't love you because I do, you're my brother. If anything I love you so much that I'm willing to let you go when your time comes... I just wish you could do the same for me." He paused for a moment and when he still didn't get some sort of response, he gave the door another knock. "Dean?" He waited a few more seconds and when he still didn't get a reply, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. Dean wasn't there and after last night's conversation, Sam had to admit to himself that he wasn't all that surprised. It wasn't that uncommon for his brother to just take off when he was faced with something he had no control over, something he couldn't change. What struck Sam as strange however, was the state of chaos he'd left his room in. Dean's laptop was open on the night stand table, books and papers where strewn about his bed, and among the clutter sat Kevin's backpack. He took a step inside to have a better look and grabbed one of the many papers on the bed in front of him. They were Kevin's notes and translations, what the young prophet had been working on before he was killed.  
  
Eyeing the rest of the paperwork on the bed in front of him, it didn't take long for everything to fall into place. The trials, closing the gates of Hell. Sam grabbed the phone from his pocket and quickly punched down Dean's number, his heart sinking like a stone when he heard the cell phone ring somewhere on the bed in front of him. Pushing papers aside he grabbed Dean's cell phone and swore under his breath. "Damn it Dean." He growled as he turned on his heels and raced towards the garage. When his eyes fell on the empty space where the Impala had been parked, his mind starting to race. What could he do to stop his older brother from going through with this? He started to pace, almost hating the other man for setting out just to prove a point. Of course Dean was going to go through with the trials, how could he have NOT seen this coming? He came to stop and passed a hand through his hair as he once again reached for his cellphone. It only rang once before the other end picked up. "Cas I need your help, It's about Dean..." He blurted into the phone.  
  
_"What about him?" Castiel replied simply. "Is everything alright?"_

Sam swallowed hard as he tried to keep the panic out of his voice. "He's gone Cas, I need your help to find him." He said without going into too much detail. "Just please come quick..."  
   
***********************  
  
Dean stood before the mirror in his dingy motel room and eyed the notes he'd taken from Kevin's things. He glanced up at his reflection before taking a deep breath and reciting the script that would launch him into the Trials. No sooner had the ancient words left his mouth, he felt a pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It felt like fire flowing through his veins, with a heat so intense he thought for sure his flesh would sear. He swore under his breath as he leaned forward to steady himself against the vanity, if Sam could do this then so could he. When the pain finally subsided, Dean straightened out, his eyes once again focusing on his reflection in the mirror. The pain had left no physical marks but deep down inside he knew the damage was done. These trials had taken a lot out of Sam and he knew they would do the same to him. The longer it took, the weaker he'd get, so he had to hurry his way through them, before his body could no longer physically handle the load. Pulling his blood soaked shirt off and tossing it to the floor, he passed a hand over the open gouges in his chest. Castiel could have those fixed with his borrowed grace, but there was no way he could convince Cas to let him go through with these trials... So there was no way he was going to let the angel know where he was or what he was up to. He gabbed a silver blade from his duffle bag and a drawing of the sigil Castiel had had tattooed on his abdomen. This wasn't going to be a tattoo, but it would hurt just the same.  
  
*********************

By the time Castiel arrived at the bunker, Sam had already gone through his brother's things searching for the slightest hint that might give him away. "He didn't take his phone with him so I can't even use the GPS to find out where he is. I checked the history on his laptop but he looked up so many cases last night, I don't know where to start. I just need you to help me find him." Sam explained as he started to pace the floor of his older brother’s bedroom.  
  
“What is all this about?” Castiel asked as he studied the mix of papers scattered on Dean's bed. “Why are you so desperate to find him?"  
  
Sam came to a stop as he turned to catch the angel's eyes. "The Gates of Hell." He started without missing a beat. "I think Dean's going to try and close the Gates of Hell."  
  
"Why? We know now that the trials will kill..."  
  
"Because it's Dean, Cas." Sam interrupted as he leaned back against the small sink. "Last night he asked what I would have done had I been in his situation and I couldn't lie to him. I told him I wouldn't have saved him, I wouldn't have let some angel in to fix him." Sam paused for a moment as he realized those might just be the last words he'd ever say to his older brother. "Being the hero is what's always given him purpose, take that away and..." The younger man couldn't help but trail off as his breath caught in the back of his throat. "I just need you to find him, before he does anything stupid."  
  
"I know how complex your brother is." Castiel replied as he caught Sam's eyes. "Don't regret telling him how you feel when he asks you for the truth. He only hears what he wants to hear anyway."

Sam sucked in a breath. "Maybe we're not too late to stop him from doing this... just because I wouldn't have done what he did to save me, it doesn't mean I want him dead."  
  
Castiel offered a nod before closing his eyes and focusing his energy on trying to find the missing man. It only took a moment for him to realize that something was wrong. "I can't see him, I don't know where he is." The angel started, the concern starting to seep into the sound of his voice. "My grace may be weak, but I can't even sense a trace of his presence or soul."  
  
"What do you mean?" Sam was quick to ask.  
  
"He must have done something to ward off angels or conceal himself." Castiel said quietly.  "Sam, I don't think he wants to be found."

 


	2. To save an innocent soul from Hell

Sam swore under his breath as he paced the floor of Dean's bedroom. "There's got to be something here." He started, coming to a stop as he turned towards Castiel. "Something that can tell us where he is."

Castiel shook his head as he continued to go through the mess of papers strewn on the young hunter's bed. When Sam took a seat beside him, the angel couldn't help but look over, well aware of what was going through the other man's head. "This isn't your fault Sam." He started, making a pile of the notes he'd already looked at. "They're his choices."

"That's not the point." Sam was quick to reply.

Castiel looked over as Sam let out a heavy sigh, the guilt and anguish clearly visible on his face. The brothers had their differences there was no denying that, but it was obvious they still loved and cared for each other as well.

"Cas, I don't know what to do." Sam admitted as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I just don't know what to do."

"If we do find him before it's too late." Castiel started softly. "You do realize, that chances are you won't be able to change his mind."

"He changed mine." Sam cut in, his eyes instantly falling to the floor. "It pretty much killed me but he changed my mind and stopped me from going through with it." He paused for a moment and swallowed the lump caught in his throat. "That's not what got to me though, it's the part that came after when he tricked me to let Gadreel in, when he saved me so that he wouldn't be left alone." Sam shook his head as he thought it all over once again, anger still smoldering from the betrayal that had driven them apart. "I just don't understand him." Sam went on, opening up to the angel beside him. "I don't understand how he can feel so worthless unless he's saving someone else, the things he'll do and the lengths he'll go to not to wind up alone."

"This is all your brother has ever known." Castiel replied, watching as Sam wiped away a tear with the back of his hand. "And unlike you, he hasn't been able to step out of your Father's shadow, of the person he was taught to be."

"I just don't want it all to end like this, you know?" Sam asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want him to die thinking that I don't appreciate what he's done. It's just that some choices aren't his to make."

Castiel offered a nod as he reached over to grab the laptop beside him. "You said the first trial was to kill a Hellhound?" He asked, getting back to the task at hand.

"Yeah, kill a Hellhound and bathe in its blood." Sam replied, straightening out as the angel handed him the laptop.

"All right then we need to find where a Hellhound was making its rounds, within a few hours driving distance from here. You look for a grouping of suspicious deaths, animal attacks, and I'll keep going through Kevin's paper work."

*************************************  
  
Killing a Hellhound and bathing in its blood was the easy part compared to saving an innocent soul from Hell and delivering it to Heaven. Dean knew the second trial was going to be a bitch, but the long drive out to hunt down a Hellhound had given him plenty of time to think it over and come up with a plan. Sam had gotten into Hell with the help of a rogue Reaper, but the job was risky and it all turned for the worse when that Reaper was killed. If it wasn't for Benny, Sam would have still been roaming Purgatory trying to find a way out. His own plan wasn't perfect but it was the only thing he could think of, short of calling for Cas. Thinking of Castiel, Dean couldn't help but take a look down at his forearm, passing a finger over the sigil he'd just carved into his flesh in an attempt to keep the angel in the dark. He knew what Castiel would have to say about his plan, but Castiel had his own problems to deal with and this had nothing to do with the angel.

He took a breath and swallowed hard, only hoping she would answer his call after everything they'd been through. "Tessa? Tessa I don't know where you are right now, but I really I need your help." He called out, grabbing the gun from the back of his belt. Though there were ways to summon Reapers just the same as there were to summon demons, he wanted to try a less menacing approach first. He took a glance at the room around him and took a deep breath. "If you don't show yourself to me, I'm going to give you a damn good reason to show up." He continued, loading the gun and bringing it up to his throat.

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?" She started as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Calling on a reaper and then threatening to take your own life."

Dean unloaded his gun and tucked it away before turning to face her. He was surprise to see her show up so fast. "Desperate times call for desperate measures." He said simply, getting straight to the point. "Tess I've got a favor to ask."

"What is it you want, I'm a little busy." She replied impatiently.

"I need you to get me into Purgatory, so that I can make my way into Hell." Dean explained.

"What, why?" She was quick to ask.  
  
Dean hesitated as he caught her eyes, there was no way she would help him without knowing what he was up to. "I found a way to close the gates of Hell for good but I need to do three trials for that to happen. I've already done the first one but I need your help with the other two."

"Which are?" She asked, pushing for more details.

"I've got to pull an innocent soul from Hell then deliver it to Heaven, and I've got to cure a demon." Dean paused as he watched her eyes drift down to the sigil carved into his arm, blood was still seeping from the deep cuts.

"Dean why are you hiding from the angels?" She asked, her tone of voice dropping.

"Because he knows the only angel who gives a damn about him, wouldn't want him to go through with this." Death explained as he walked through the doorway. "What exactly are you trying to accomplish here Dean?" The horseman asked as both turned to face him. "Your brother was ready to go when I came for him, when you stopped him from going through with these same trials."

"I, I know, but I wasn't ready to let him go." He stammered, clearing his throat. There was a moment of silence and Dean couldn't help but swallow hard as his eyes started to tear up. "I can't live without him." He said, his gaze drifting from the Horseman to the Reaper he'd called upon.

"So you plan to take his place instead?" Death asked, his calm voice almost eerie. When Dean gave him a nod, a smile crept up to the corner of the old man's lips. "You only plan to take his place because you can't bare the thought of having to live without him. Haven't you been through this before, when you traded your soul for his life?"

"I don't have the time to stand here and explain myself to you, either you help me get to Hell or I'll find another way to get in." Dean started, his eyes narrowing.

"You're right, you don't have the time." Death continued as he passed a note to the Reaper at his side. "You'd better hurry, the clock's ticking."

Just as fast as he had appeared, the horseman was gone. "What is that?" Dean asked, watching as Tessa glanced down to the note Death had passed her.

"My list of souls to reap." She replied, sliding it into her pocket before catching the young hunter's eyes. "Dean, your name's on it."

"So if I end up dead either way, help me accomplish just one last thing. Help me slam the gates of Hell shut." Dean paused for a moment and she reluctantly gave him a nod. "Thank you." He replied, knowing he couldn't accomplish the trials without her. "I need some info first. When a demon is killed, what happens to the soul of the person it was possessing?"

"When a demon is killed, it gets dragged back to Hell, along with the soul of the person it was possessing." Tessa explained. "We can't reap the souls of those who die while possessed. In most cases, even though the person died years ago their soul stays trapped with the demon that killed them."  
  
"So a human soul that's just along for the ride would end up in Hell, with the demon that took it over?" Dean asked, reaching for the angel blade he'd placed on the vanity behind him. When Tessa gave him a nod, he offered a smile. "Then finding an innocent soul in Hell shouldn't be too hard."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Tessa asked as Dean made his way towards her, the sharp blade in his tight grip.

"Positive." Dean replied. She placed a hand on his shoulder and in the blink of an eye they went from the small motel washroom, to the depths of Purgatory he remembered so well. The sights, the sounds, the smell. It all brought him back to the year he'd spent fighting and running for his life.

"I'm giving you an hour." Tessa started, taking a quick glance at her watch before taking a look at the woodland around them. "There's a door into Hell just beyond those trees, get in, get what you need and get out. I'll be waiting for you right here."

Dean gave her a nod before turning towards the trees she'd pointed out. After being freed from a year in Purgatory and what felt like decades in Hell, he never thought he'd be going back to either voluntarily. With the sharp blade in his tight grip, he stepped into the tree line and out of a doorway leading down a dark corridor. The heat, the screams, the blood. They were all things that forced his mind to drift back to his time served in the pit. He cautiously made his way down the long hall, passing one cell after another in search of an innocent soul trapped with a demon he could cure.

He ducked into an open cell as footsteps echoed down the hall, he'd served his time in Hell and he knew how it all worked in the pit. Intimidation was the key to survival and it was kill or be killed. The longer you 'lived' and the more you killed, the further up the ladder you got. Clutching the sharp blade in his tight grip he waited as the footsteps approached and when a demon walked by the cell he was hiding in, he pulled it towards him and in a swift motion brought the blade up to its throat. "Make a sound and you're dead." He hissed, his menacing tone of voice reflecting his darker times torturing souls in Hell. "You're going to help me find someone."


	3. To deliver a soul to Heaven

"Scythe." Sam said, turning the laptop over so Castiel could have a look. "There's been five suspicious deaths in the last week, all in a small town called Scythe about two hours drive from here. All the victims showed signs of a wild animal attack, three of the five happened inside their homes, doors were all locked from the inside." Sam went on. "The same article I found also came up in Dean's search history, that's got to be where he went."

"What should we look for once we’re in Scythe?" Castiel asked, watching as Sam started typing away on the laptop. "If he doesn't want to be found, he wouldn't have used a credit card anywhere, right?"

"It's a fairly small town off the main road." Sam continued. "Probably only has one gas station and a motel or two." There was a moment of silence as the young hunter studied the small screen in front of him. “There’s a gas station just as you pull into town, if Dean drove two hours to get out there, then there's no doubt in my mind he stopped to gas up once he got there.”  
  
**********************************

"She's in that one." The demon hissed, pointing to a darkened cell as Dean pushed him forward down the hall. "When we get in the way we end up here with the rest of the pathetic losers who sell their souls." He silenced as Dean pressed the blade to his throat.

"Meg?" Dean called out, peering into the cell as he held onto his hostage. "Meg you in there?" He repeated. When he didn't get a reply, he tightened his grip on the blade he was holding to the demon's throat. "You lie to me and I'm going to send you back to Hells lowest rung myself." He threatened, pausing as his eyes focused on the dark figure sitting on the floor in the corner of the cell.

"Now aren't you a sight for sore eyes." She cooed, her quiet voice almost lost among the screams of agony echoing down the halls. "Don't tell me you sold what was left of your soul again." She continued.

"No, but I am here for you." Dean was quick to reply, clamping a hand over on the demon's mouth as he plunged his blade into its chest. The young hunter let the demon fall to the floor at his feet as he pushed open the cell door. With nowhere to run or hide, there was no reason to lock the demons in their cells, the entire place was a prison. "C'mon get up, we gotta go." He said as he reached down to her. Though her tone of voice and attitude hadn't changed a bit, her appearance certainly had. Her clothes were torn and her face was smeared with dry blood, gashed and cuts covered what he could see of her arms and her bleached blond hair had faded back to black. Sent back to Hell by Crowley for hanging around with them, there was no doubt in Dean's mind that Meg had taken much more than a beating as one of Hell's lowest class citizens. "Come on." He continued, grabbing her hand and hoisting her to her feet.

Meg winced in pain as he pulled her along down the hall, bloody hands reaching out to them from between bars of darkened cells. "You gonna tell me what's up or am I supposed to guess?" She asked, tripping over her own feet as she tried to keep up. She hadn't run in what felt like years and trying to keep up with Dean was proving difficult.

"I need your help with something." Dean was quick to reply, knowing they had to get out of Hell as soon as possible, before word of his presence got around. When she stumbled again, he paused in his steps and scooped her up in his arms. "Sam didn't finish the trials to close the gates of Hell, so I'm going to do them." Dean explained, taking a quick glance around as he continued down the hall. "I need to save an innocent soul from Hell."

Meg couldn't help put let out a chuckle at those words. "You think I've an innocent soul left to save?" She asked, resting her head against his shoulder as he carried her. "Hate to break it to you but..."

"Not your soul, the one of that girl you possessed." He cut in, heading into a shadowy corner and stepping out of the brush into Purgatory. "Her soul's still trapped in there with you, I need you to let it go. You can keep the meat suit but not the soul." He came to a stop and took a glance at the endless woods around them. When he spotted Tessa, he hurried to make his way over. The Reaper did little more than place a hand on his shoulder and the trio were back in the motel room.

"A Reaper?" Meg asked, swearing under her breath as Dean placed her down on the bed. "How in the Hell can you see a..." She paused as the thought suddenly crossed her mind. "Oh shit." She whispered, her eyes drifting from the Reaper to the young hunter who was now kneeling on the floor in front of her.

Dean caught the demon's eyes as he pulled the silver blade from the back of his belt. "I don't have much time do get this done." He said, clutching one of Kevin's translated notes. He glanced over his shoulder at Tessa and when she gave him a nod, he turned his attention back to the demon. "Give me your arm."

Meg held her arm out and watched as he gently rolled up her sleeve, pausing as his eyes studied the cuts and gashes that were already there. "What can I say, this meat suit's been to Hell and back more than once." She said with a forced smile. "It's not like I had an angel on my shoulder to just fix it all up again." She winced as he slid the blade against her flesh; first drawing blood and then with a few words taken from an ancient tablet, drawing out the innocent soul of a woman who'd died years ago. Feeling what was left of her host's soul drain from the body she'd taken over, Meg couldn't help but suck in a breath. It was a feeling unlike anything she'd ever felt before, and one she knew she would never experience again.

Blood dripped from Meg's arm down Dean's sharp blade as a stream of iridescent light started seeping from the open wound. Watching it flow through the air towards the waiting reaper was mesmerizing, an innocent soul free at last from a demon's tight grip. "I'll see that her soul gets to Heaven." Tessa said softly as she caught the young hunter's eyes. "You start working on that final trial."

Dean gave her a nod and just like that she was gone, leaving him alone with a rebellious demon he'd pulled from the depths of Hell. Eyeing the fresh cut in her arm, he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around the wound. "You go wash up, I'll gather my things and bring the car around." He said as he stood from the floor. He took a few steps but paused as the motel room around him suddenly started to spin. "Just make it quick alright?"

Meg watched as he stumbled to steady himself, placing a hand on the bed post to catch his balance. "These trials, they're draining the life out of you, aren't they?" She asked, standing up as Dean hunched over and started coughing up blood. She put a hand on his back and couldn't help but notice the heat radiating through the fabric of his shirt. '"Dean?"

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as his coughing fit finally stopped, leaving him with a raspy voice and a burning in his chest. "I don't have much time, we need to get this done fast." He said grabbing the angel blade from the bed and tucking it away.

"That reaper mentioned a final trial." Meg started, looking on as Dean hastily started to gather his things.

"I need to cure a demon, so I'm going to cure you." Dean was quick to reply. "And to do that, we first need to find hallowed ground."

"Cure a demon?" Meg repeated, her doubt more than obvious. "You want to cure me? Is that even possible?"

"It is." Dean replied, pausing as the room around him started to spin again. "And if you're willing to accept that, I think I can get it accomplished much faster than if I tried to cure a demon against its will." As everything around him came to a stop, he turned to face the demon who was now standing behind him. "Meg do you want to do this?" He asked as he caught her eyes. "Do you want to be human again and help me close the gates of Hell for good?"

"What's the catch?" She asked casually. "I've been around the block a few times to know that nothing ever comes without a few strings attached."

"There is no catch, not for you at least." Dean replied quietly. "Do this with me and I'll restore your soul... Don't you want to be human again?"

There was a moment of silence between them and Meg couldn't help but notice that something had changed, something about him was different. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice, he was practically begging her. Being human again had never crossed her mind, because once she'd given into the tormented darkness that awaited her in the pit, she'd become just as twisted as the rest of them. Once a demons was born of a tortured soul in Hell, the evil within ate away at its humanity. There was no turning back, but this was the chance of a lifetime. "All right I'll do it." She replied, putting her trust in the man who'd pulled her from the depths of Hell. "So we need a church or something?" She asked, extending her hand as he gave her a nod.

"What?" He asked, his eyes drifting down to her open hand.

"You can barely walk a straight line, I'll drive." When he hesitated, a grin crossed her face. "Promise I won't even drive her through anything this time."

Dean fished the keys from his pocket and handed them over, knowing he was in no shape to drive when he could hardly keep his balance. "Let's do this."

*********************************  
  
Pulling up to the small gas bar in Scythe, Sam was almost surprised not to have been pulled over for speeding somewhere along the way. He put Castiel’s car in park and pulled the keys from the igniton, his heart racing as the pair made their way towards the small attached convenience store. The bell above the door rang as they entered and the tall man behind the counter looked over.

"Can I help you with anything?" He asked, eyeing the pair as they made their way over.

"We're actually looking for someone." Sam started as he flashed a fake badge. "Have you seen a 30 something year old, James Dean sort of guy, little shorter than I am. He was driving a black 1967 Impala?"

"Yeah I saw him." The man replied with a nod. "He gassed up early this morning, asked if there was a motel nearby so I pointed him to the 'Valley Inn' downtown."

"Ok thanks alot." Sam said with a smile. He glanced at his watch as they headed out of the store, it was now just past four in the afternoon and Dean had been missing for close to twenty hours. The tires chirped on the pavement as Sam backed out of the lot and onto the street. “The Valley Inn.” He repeated, eyeing the old buildings that lined the main stretch as they drove further into town. Though it was a short drive, the seconds felt like miles as they hurried to catch up with Dean before he got himself in too deep.

“There it is.” Castiel pointed out as he leaned forward in his seat. “On the left."


	4. To cure a Demon

Meg glanced over as Dean let out a groan and leaned back in his well worn leather seat. "You all right there?" The demon behind the wheel asked casually.

"Not really no." Dean replied, putting a hand up to his burning forehead. "I feel weak, tired, nauseated, I'm exhausted and everything's sore. I feel like I got my ass kicked."

There was a moment of silence and Meg once again took a quick glance at the man sitting next to her. "You still want to go through with this?"

"Yeah I do." The young hunter was quick to reply. "I feel like shit but at the same time I feel like there's a light at the end of the tunnel. You know? There's finally an end to all of this and what I'm about to do, I feel like it's going to make up for everything I've ever screwed up...." He trailed off as he pointed her down a dirt road. "Take a left here, I think I saw a church steeple through the trees up on that ridge." He said as he sucked in a shallow breath. He'd taken all kinds of beatings as a hunter but nothing compared to the way he was feeling right now. Not the torture he endured in Hell, the fear or adrenaline high of Purgatory, the numerous gunshot wounds, the stabbings, the broken bones or various injuries that came with the job, nothing came even close.

"Sam doesn't know, does he?" Meg finally asked, her hands on the wheel tightening slightly. When she didn't get a reply, she cleared her throat. "Neither does your feathered friend I gather, judging by that sigil you carved into your arm. So tell me renegade, why are you hiding from the only two people who actually give a damn about you?"

"It's complicated." Dean replied simply.

"What isn't with you."

****************************

Sam pulled the fake badge from his pocket as he and Castiel approached the motel's front desk. Though he had done this so many times before while working cases, doing it to try and find his brother had his stomach in knots. "I need a complete list of guests that have booked in within the last twenty-four hours." He demanded, knowing that time was of the essence if they were to find Dean before he finished the trials.

The man reluctantly reached under the counter to pull out a large binder, placing it on the desk in front of him. "We sort of run this the old fashion way." He started, opening the binder to a marked page and turning it over so Sam could have a look. "I'm sure you're use to looking at records on the computer, but I've always found it easier to keep track this way."

"That's fine, thanks." Sam was quick to reply as he grabbed the large binder from the desk and made his way to a small round table behind them. He took a seat and his eyes quickly started scanning the list of names, license plate numbers and credit card info on the page in front of him.

"I don't see his name." Castiel remarked as he too scanned the list from over the young hunter's shoulder.

"There, in room nine." Sam pointed out, his finger tracing the name and signature of an alias his brother often used. "Robert Plant is the lead signer of his favorite band." He explained. "Says here he paid cash so there was no Credit Card to trace and he didn't leave a License plate number. He checked in before dawn this morning and it looks like he hasn't checked out yet."

"I didn't see the Impala parked out front." Castiel went on, glancing up at the man busy sorting papers behind the front desk.

"He could have parked it somewhere else." Sam was quick to reply as he closed the large binder and got to his feet. "I'm going to need a master key so I can search one of your rooms." He said sternly as he handed the binder back. "I'm looking for a person of interest and so far my investigation has led me to your motel."

"I'm sorry but I can't just hand you the keys to one of my guests room." The man replied, his eyes drifting from Sam to Castiel. "If you want to search a room, you're going to have to go to the local detachment and get one of our officers over here to assist in the..."

"If you don't give me access to room number nine, I'll book you right now for obstruction." Sam cut in, extending his hand. "If the guy I'm looking for isn't here, I'm gone."

The man hesitated for a moment before grabbing a key from the register in front of him. "Ten minutes." He said simply. "You've got ten minutes to go have a look and then I'm calling the local authorities down here."

"That won’t be necessary." Sam replied as he grabbed the key from the other man's hand and headed out the door. Walking down the sidewalk that lined the front of the building, Sam couldn't help but wonder what, if anything they would find in that motel room once they got there. Would they be too late? Would they get there before the damage was done? "I can go in, if you'd rather wait outside." Castiel offered, watching as Sam struggled with the thought of what they might find. He'd spent enough time with both men to know when something was bothering them and it was more than obvious to him now, that this was bothering Sam. They came to a stop in front of room number nine and their eyes instantly fell to the 'do not disturb' sign that was hanging from the doorknob.

"No, that's alright." Sam quietly replied, knocking on the door and waiting for a reply. When there was no response, he slid the key into the lock, sucked in a breath and pushed the door open. "Dean?" He called out, stepping into the empty room to have a look around. Though the bed was still made he could tell someone had used it, it wasn't that uncommon for Dean to just lay back and close his eyes. Rest to Dean was nothing more than a quick nap most of the time anyway. While Castiel made his way into the tiny washroom, Sam couldn't help but take notice of the blood droplets on the floor by the bed. He knelt down and used the edge of a bed sheet to wipe up the dark red spots. It wasn't fresh, but it wasn't that old either.

"I found these." Castiel announced as he emerged from the washroom with a few bloody towels. "They were left on the edge of the tub, they're still wet."

Sam stood from the floor as he let out a sigh. "There's more blood on the floor here." He pointed out as he caught the angel's eyes. "I don't think he was in here long, more than likely stopped by to clean himself up after killing a Hellhound."

"So what now?" Castiel asked as he tossed the towels onto the floor behind him. "You think he'll be back?"

"I doubt it." Sam replied as he took a glance around the empty room. "The second trial is to pull an innocent soul from Hell, and unless he traps a demon, a reaper... or an angel maybe, I have no idea how he'd pull that off."

"I haven't heard of any angels answering to him, if he called on them." Castiel informed. "Assuming he accomplished such a task, what would his next step be?"

"Cure a demon." Sam replied as he passed a hand over his face, his mind drifting back to the old church where he'd come so close to restoring Crowley's soul and closing the gates of Hell. It had taken hours to accomplish and had drained him of everything he had, but he'd come so close to finishing the third trial. "We need to find hallowed ground." He explained as he started to pace. "A church or a graveyard, somewhere he can go nearby to cleanse his own soul before he starts that third trial. If we can't figure out how he's going to get that second trial done..."

"Then we'll get ahead of him and wait for him." Castiel cut in, finishing the hunter's sentence.

***************************

Meg looked up at the old abandoned church as the Impala rolled to a stop. "Here we are, looks a little run down." She remarked as she put the shifter in park and slid the keys from the ignition.

"Doesn't matter, it'll do." Dean replied, stepping out of the passenger seat. He reached into the back seat and pulled out his duffle bag as Meg made her way around the car to join him. "Just give me a minute, there's something I've got to do." He said as he swung the duffle bag over one shoulder and started to make his way up to the old church. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breath catching in the back of his throat, there was no turning back now. With two trials already behind him he could feel his body shutting down and knew that the final trial, to cure a demon, would drain what life and soul he had left. Sacrifice in the name of the greater good was the Winchester way after all and while giving his life to slam shut the gates of Hell was worth the price he was about to pay, it wasn't the reason he was willing to die. Sam might have been right about one thing, that he'd saved him because he feared facing the world alone, but the truth was, he'd never be able to just stand back and watch Sam die. Ever. Looking out for his little brother had been at the center of his entire life and having to live without him just wasn't an option.

He paused by the boarded door and turned to watch as Meg leaned back against the Impala. Though they had fought in the past and she'd threatened his life there was no other demon he'd rather cure than her. Slipping in through a gap between the boards, Dean stepped into the old church knowing that this was where he was going to die. Old pews still stood in rows, some damaged by water from a leaking roof, others carved with the names of those who'd ventured in long after the faithful had left. There was everything from trash to empty liquor bottles scattered around floor. Cigarette butts, a few discarded needles and scorch marks from a failed arson where among the first things he noticed. Though it was obvious the local teens had come and gone throughout the years, it looked as if no one had been there for quite some time now.

Dust covered floor boards creaked beneath his feet as he made his way down the middle aisle towards the front, dropping his duffle bag to the floor as he got down on his knees. "I don't even know where to start." He admitted, his eyes drifting up to the symbol of a cross in the stained glass rose window high above the altar. "I've done so much I regret, so much shit that I'm starting to doubt I can actually go through with these trials and use my blood to cure a demon..." He trailed off as he thought of a past marred with lies, fraud and theft among many other things he'd rather not mention out loud. "Never been much of the praying type, but help me accomplish just one last thing." He whispered. "Please, just help me do this one last thing."


	5. One Last Sacrifice

Sam paced the floor of the motel room, the thoughts going through his head making each and every second drag on. “He’s gotta be somewhere around here, Cas.” He said as he turned to face the angel sitting at the edge of the bed.  
  
“I’ve searched every church, synagogue, cemetery and mausoleum around town." Castiel started, his tone voice dropping as he caught the young hunter's eyes. “I can’t hone in on a location, I can’t find him anywhere.”  
  
"Maybe you missed something, maybe your angel mojo isn’t strong enough." Sam said, passing a hand through his hair as he started to pace again. "He's gotta be out there somewhere and he can't finish these trials without hallowed ground. You can’t pick up anything on angel radio? Can't you send the word out?"

Castiel watched as the distraught man once again came to a stop, the look on his face was heartbreaking. "Sam, I don't think your brother wants to be found." The angel once again stated, knowing all too well that wasn't what Sam wanted to here. "He's either covering his tracks very well or we're just too late and he's..."

"No. Don't even say it." Sam cut in, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of being too late. "We've just got to start thinking of another way, we know he was here so we know he's close. You said you couldn’t hone in on him? That maybe he did something to hide from you?” Sam asked, watching as Castiel gave him a nod. “Then we'll summon a demon... maybe they can find him.”

*************************************

Meg looked up as Dean emerged from a hole in the boarded church door. With the evening sun on his face, anyone could see that he wasn't doing so well. His skin was pale, dull and dark circles hung below his bloodshot eyes. She pushed herself off the Impala and watched as he made his way back to the car and opened the trunk to grab a few more things. "You're not looking so good." She remarked, her eyes catching his for only a moment as he pulled the keys from the lock and closed the trunk.

Dean didn't offer a reply as his hand trailed the curve of the Impala's rear fender. "I've got a favor to ask." He started simply as he pulled a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket. When she gave him a nod, he passed her a note and the keys to his beloved car. "Give this to Sam, will you?"

"Sure." She replied quietly, slipping both the note and the keys into her pocket as she followed him up the church steps.

Holding the boards apart as Meg slipped inside, Dean took one last glance back towards the Impala. That car had been the closest thing to a home he'd known growing up and he'd spent countless hours sitting behind the wheel as years and miles rolled by. It was almost a part of him, an extension of who he was and just like him, the Impala had taken its share of blows that could, and in some cases should have been its death. T-boned by Tractor Trailer, driven through everything from walls to fences and barricades, windows had been shot out and smashed, it had even been flipped onto its roof.... But parked there in the gleam of the setting sun, you'd never be able to tell what that car had been through. Much like him. Dean let out a sigh as he ducked into the old church after Meg, knowing that Sam would take good care of his baby.

Straightening out, he watched as the demon walked the main aisle of the church, her gaze drifting up to the cross in the rose widow high above. He couldn't help but wonder just what was going through her head as she paused to study a crumbling statue left behind among the clutter. When he started shaking the can of spray paint he'd grabbed from the trunk of the car, the echo caught her attention and she turned to face him.

"What are you doing?" She asked as she made her way back over to him. "A devil's trap?"

Dean shook his head. "A sigil, to keep the angels out." He replied as he started tagging their only point of entry. She didn't ask why, but he knew she was wondering. "Cas cares too much about me to know about this." He explained, his voice echoing in the room around them. When he was done with the sigil, he painted a devil's trap over top of it. "Just in case." He said, tossing the can aside and taking a step back to observe his handy work.

"I've never seen one like that, what does it do?" Meg asked, studying the more elaborate version of the devil's trap she knew.

"Sam found it in some of the Men of Letters' notes, it's like putting the entire room in a demon trap, a lock down, it'll keep all of them out." While the art would keep demons and angels at bay, it would do nothing to stop his little brother whom by now, had surely noticed he was missing. If Sam was on his trail or not, there was no way for Dean to know but his plans were to get this done before Sam was able to find him. "Help me move this." He said as he pointed to a dilapidated piano nearby. Meg obliged and he cringed as the sound of the piano dragging against the floor mixed with the melody of its broken keys. Now if Sam were to show up, the large instrument blocking the boarded door from the inside would be enough to keep him out as well. "Alright, lets do this." Dean said as he caught the demon's eyes.

*********************************

"Alright, let's do this." Sam said as he caught the angel's eyes. With the devil's trap ready to go the young hunter summoned the King of Hell, only hoping Crowley would answer their call after everything they had been through together.

"Hello boys." Crowley replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Is all this really necessary moose?" He asked, his gaze drifting down to the devil's trap painted on the floor. "I'm still pretty busy searching for that first blade you know."

"We need your help with something else." Sam said sternly, getting straight to the point. "And if you want a Hell left to fight for, then you're going to help."

"Demanding aren't we?" Crowley replied as his eyes meeting Castiel's. "What is it that you want now?"

"We need to know where Dean is. Cas can't track him down and this motel room is the only lead we've had so far."

"And you think I've got a pair of eyes on him at all times?" The Demon was quick to reply. "I've better things to do with my time than watch your brother stumbled about his daily schedule of angst, anger, guilt and alcohol. Until I find the first blade that he can use to kill off Abaddon, I really don't care what Dean's been..."

Crowley silenced as Castiel suddenly put a blade to his throat. "We really don't care what you've been up to." The angel growled, his low menacing tone of voice now the only sound in the room. "Dean's about to slam shut the gates of Hell and if he succeeds then you have no chance of killing off Abaddon and you'll both have nothing left to fight over. You will reign over nothing"

"Is all this true, moose?" Crowley asked as he caught the young hunter's eyes over the angel's shoulder. He was so distracted tracking down that first blade, he had no idea Dean had taken on the trials to seal the gates of Hell.

Sam gave him a nod. "Yeah and you're about to be screwed unless you help us find him."

"You'll have to let me out of here and give me a moment." The King of Hell started, bringing a hand up to his throat as Castiel pulled his sharp blade away. There was a moment of silence and he let out a sigh. "Trust me, If what you two just told me is true, than I don't want it to happen either. The first blade is useless to me without the mark of Cain, which your brother just so happens to bare."

Castiel and Sam exchanged a glance before the angel reached down to scrape away the lines of the devil's trap on the floor. "Be right back." Crowley assured as he vanished from the room.

"What do you think, you really think he'll help us? Sam asked as he turned towards Castiel. Before the angel could give him a reply, Crowley was back in the motel room with them.

"Love the skepticism." He cooed. "Take the road out of Scythe and head north, take the first left and keep going until you reach a little white church among the trees on the ridge." The demon paused for a moment as he took a quick glance at his watch. "He's holed up inside and he's got the place locked down against both angels and demons. I can't get in and neither can his boyfriend there so it looks like we're all screwed in this situation. Is that all you wanted, are we done here?" He asked impatiently.

"So that's it, we're all screwed and you don't give a shit? There's nothing you can do?" Sam asked, already fearing the worse as he considered the precautions his brother had taken not to be found, or stopped. "YOU'RE THE KING OF HELL!!! You've sent waves of demons after us before and now you're saying there is nothing you can do to..."

"Do I have to further clarify that he's got the place locked down?" Crowley interrupted, silencing the young hunter mid sentence. "I can't step foot into that old church and neither can he." The demon said as he pointed towards the angel. "The only thing I can do is gather my army before Dean slams those gates shut, so sorry moose but you're on your own."

"This concerns you too, you son of a..." Sam trailed off as the King of Hell disappeared. He swore under his breath, not even Crowley was able or willing to help them. There was only one way to know if he was telling the truth or not and with nowhere left for them to turn, the pair had no better option. “Come on.” He said as he grabbed his duffle bag from the table and the keys from his pocket.

***********************************

She followed him up to the front of the church and took a seat on one of the old pews, as Dean started digging through the duffle bag at his feet. "So now what?" She asked, watching as he placed what he would need on the bench beside her. His silver blade, a few medical syringes, some type of clamp and a length of surgical hose. "How exactly do you cure a demon?"

"Well according to our archives, a demon needs to be injected with blood that's been purified." Dean started as he removed his jacket and took a seat next to her. "One dose every hour, for eight hours." He explained, rolling up his sleeve. "And like I said earlier, if that demon is willing, than I think we can do it much faster."

"That equipment looks like it dates back to the second world war." She remarked, watching as the young hunter carefully inspected one of the needles.

"It probably does." Dean replied simply as he extended his hand. "But it'll do."

Meg hesitated for only a moment before giving him her arm again. As he searched for a vein he could tap into, she couldn't help but notice how cold his fingers felt against her skin. When he found what he was looking for he sunk the needle into her flesh and then attached the length of tube to the end. Using the clamp to pinch off the piece of hose, he then grabbed the other needle and started searching his own arm for a vein. "What is this, a battlefield blood transfusion?"

Dean didn't look up as he jabbed the syringe into his wrist. "More or less." He replied, wincing slightly as he pulled the needle free from the syringe and then connected the other end of the hose to it. He rested his arm against the back of the pew behind her for elevation, and then removed the clamp he'd used to pinch off the hose. Almost instantly, his blood filled the tube and with each heartbeat overpowering hers, a pulse of life was forced into her system. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, feeling the fire spread through his veins as his body fought to keep its strength. At this rate, one dose an hour for eight hours straight was going to be done in a matter of only minutes and who knew what that was going to do to him.


	6. The Famous Final Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind that this story was written from start to finish before the END of Season 9... well BEFORE we find out the full effect the Mark of Cain has on Dean.

When Sam's eyes fell on the Impala, he knew without a doubt that he'd find his brother inside that old church. Question was, would he be too late? He pulled up alongside the Impala and jumped out of the car, racing up to the steps with Castiel on his heals. “Dean!” He shouted, pulling at the boards that were blocking the door. "Dean!" He went on, frantically removing one plank after another.

"Crowley was right." Castiel remarked as he took a step back to study the church. "Dean has the place locked down."

Sam swore under his breath when he pulled a loose board out of his way and noticed something blocking the door from the inside. He tried pushing it aside but when it didn't move, he turned to Castiel. "Can you move that?" Castiel shook his head. "No. The sigil he used, he must have marked the doorway with it. I'm sorry but I can't get in, I can't even breach it."

Sam took a step back and gave it kick, hoping he could knock over whatever piece of furniture his brother had used to barricade the door. When it didn't budge, he tried again, this time taking notice of the hollow sound that followed. His gaze momentarily drifted back towards the Impala. "How about the trunk, can you pry that open?" He asked, as he turned on the spot.

Castiel followed the young hunter back to the Impala and grabbed a hold of the trunk's lid, pulling it open effortlessly. The urgency and desperation were hard for him to ignore as he watched Sam's eyes scan the array of weapons in the trunk, searching for something he could use to get through that door and whatever was up against it. "Sam I know you just want to talk to him, but I think you should brace yourself for..."  
  
"I can't let him go through with this, Cas." The young hunter cut in as he grabbed an ax from the trunk and headed back for the door. "I can't let him die like this, not after everything we've been through."

************************************

Meg looked over as Dean drew in a shallow breath, his eyes were shut tight and his pale skin was covered in a cold sweat. She could feel his heart beating in her veins and she could feel the life of every pulse as his blood started to take over. She'd been a demon for so long, she'd forgotten what it was to be human but all of sudden, emotions she'd set aside long ago where starting to come back to her. It was all so raw and overwhelming. The years she'd spent after giving in to Hell were filled with the darkness nightmares were made of, she'd done unspeakable things with no conscious or remorse. She closed her eyes as her mind began to race, the guilt rising from somewhere within the depths of her soul forcing her to take a hard look back on the life she'd been living.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath as his nails dug into the old church pew he was sitting on. The pain struck him right to the core and every inch of his skin felt like it was on fire. Lightheaded from the drop in blood pressure, he could feel his body physically begin to shut down. As a hunter, he always knew he'd die before hitting forty... But he could have never imagined that he would be going out like this; curing a demon and slamming shut the gates of Hell. His eyes opened as the light from the setting sun shun down into the church through that rose window high above. Looking over at Meg, he couldn't help but notice as a tear rolled down her cheek, the lone droplet catching the sunlight just the right way to glimmer. He winced in pain as he reached out to wipe it away with his thumb, a smile catching the corner of his lips as her eyes flew open. "You're crying." He started, his weak quiet voice barely above a whisper as he caught her eyes. "Meg, demons don't cry."

"Dean, I'm so sorry." She whispered as she fought back the tears. "I'm so sorry for everything I've put you through over the years. After everything I've done to you, to your brother, your father, your friends, all the people I killed... I don't deserve this from you, I don't deserve to be cured."

There was a moment of silence and Dean swallowed hard. "Yes you do, everyone deserves a second chance." He stared, knowing right then that his purified blood was indeed having an effect. Though his vision was blurring, he could see the reaper that had appeared by the altar, waiting for the moment that his time would run out. "Meg I, I have another favor to ask you." He started, feeling the breath catch in the back of his throat. "Take care of my angel."

**********************************

Castiel watched as Sam started hacking his way into the church, one swing after the other sending splinters of wood in every direction. Every blow he landed was followed by the eerie echo of a piano's screeching keys. He could sense the anger and guilt the younger man was harboring deep inside and knew there was nothing he could say that would make Sam see that this choice was Dean's to make. "I know you're angry with him for doing this and I know that you feel guilt over it, but this is not your fault." The angel silence as Sam paused to look back at him. "He isn't doing this because of you, because of what you said." Castiel continued as he caught the other man's eyes. It was a message he had already tried to put across in vain. "This is him trying to fix what he...." Castiel trailed off as a flash of blinding light beamed through the cracks of the boarded doorway. His heart sank like a stone.

Sam shook his head, his eyes tearing up as he watched the expression on Castiel's face change instantly. He knew what had just happened inside that old church, but he wasn't ready to accept it. "No." He muttered, turning his attention back to the door and taking another swing with all he had. With his anger coming out in powerful ax blows, he smashed one board in after another and then kicked through the backing panel of the piano his brother had pushed up against the door. He put his shoulder up against the instrument and swore under his breath as he put his weight into it, finally gaining an inch. The piano started tilting and once he had it at an angle, its center of gravity shifted and momentum sent it to the floor with a deafening crash.

The echo that reverberated in the old church sounded more like the rumble of thunder, as it slowly dissipated and eventually faded back to silence. Sam took a wary step inside, his eyes quickly scanning his surroundings as he walked over the broken piano and turned to face the boarded doorway he'd hacked his way through. Using the ax to break the line of a sigil Dean had painted on the door, Sam broke the seal that was keeping Castiel from setting foot inside. He swallowed hard, his eyes catching the angel's for only a moment before the pair cautiously made their way down the center aisle.

The silence was eerie and the setting sun was their only source of light. Sam's heart was in his throat as he eyed a woman sitting in one of the pews at the front of the church. He reached for his gun out of instinct, his grip on the weapon tightening as they approached. "Dean?" He started, his voice breaking up and his heart skipping a beat as his eyes finally settled on his older brother. Castiel reached out to place a hand on his shoulder but Sam simply brushed it off as he made his way towards the front. There, he froze in his steps, unable to focus on anything else but the sight of Dean's lifeless body lying on the old dusty bench. His eyes were closed, his skin pale and his head resting in the hands of a woman he thought he'd never see again. Sam unloaded the gun in his grip as he brought his shaky hand down to his side. "Meg?" He managed, eyeing the length of surgical tubing stretching from her arm to his. He set the gun down on the bench as he dropped to his knees on the floor in front of them.

Though Meg caught his eyes, she didn't say a word. There was nothing she could say to him to that would take away the grief clearly visible on his face. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched Sam pull the needle from Dean's wrist and then slid the other man off the bench and into his arms. She'd always known how strong the bond between them was, but never before had she been able to truly understand it. When a hand fell on her shoulder, she turned to see Castiel standing there behind her. "Cas." She whispered, searching for her words as he took a seat next to her. She winced as he carefully pulled the needle from her arm, setting it down on the pew behind him. There was so much she wanted to say but nothing was coming out so she reached for him instead, pulling him to her in a hug.

With his hand pressed to the side of Dean's throat, Sam frantically searched for a pulse even though he knew none would be found. Dean had succeeded in closing the gates of Hell and it had cost him his life. "Cas, tell me you can you fix this." Sam begged, desperation in his voice again as he held onto his brother. "There's got to be something you can do."

Castiel shook his head. "I really wish there was. These trials have left his body broken beyond repair, his soul is gone and there is nothing left for me to save." He replied softly, his mind drifting back to the moment he pulled Dean Winchester's soul from the depths of Hell. They'd been through so much together since then, he felt like he'd just lost a brother as well. "Sam, I'm so sorry." He started, his gaze drifting down to the bloody sigil Dean had carved into his own flesh. The angel reached down to pass a finger over the self-inflicted wound, the lengths Dean had been willing to go to and the risks he was willing to take were astounding. "He's always given so much."

Sam offered a nod as he watched Castiel study the sigil in Dean's arm. "The mark of Cain is gone." He remarked, pausing as the angel looked up. "To kill Abaddon with the first blade, Cain left Dean with his mark" The young hunter explained, quickly bringing Castiel up to speed. "But it's not there anymore, it's gone."

"You mean this mark?" Meg replied as she turned her arm over for Sam to see. "Dean told me that he had to pass it on, that it couldn't die with him so he gave it to me. He said that you would know what to do with it." She swallowed hard as she then reached into her pocket and pulled out the note the other man had given her. "He also told me to give this to you. Sam, I'm sorry."

Sam reached out and when she placed both the note and the keys to the Impala in his hand, it all hit home. Holding onto his lifeless brother wasn't enough, he'd gone through it before when Dean had been dragged to Hell, but this was for real. The tears were starting to form and he couldn't help but choke them back as he lay his brother down and crossed his arms on his chest.

"Guys, can you give me a minute?" He asked without looking up, the Impala's keys digging into his palm as his grip on them tightened.

"Take as much time as you need." Castiel replied softly as he got to his feet, pausing as he waited for Meg to join him.

"Will he be alright?" Meg whispered as the pair made their way down the aisle towards the boarded door Sam had chopped his way through.

"I hope so." Castiel said as he turned to watch the young hunter take a seat on the pew, his head dropping in his hands.


	7. Curtain Call

The silence that filled that old church was deafening. Sam passed a hand over his face as his gaze drifted down to Dean's lifeless body on the dust covered floor. He swallowed hard, thinking of all the times his brother had been there for him and everything he'd given up along the way. Dean had spent his entire life just fighting to survive, it had been one sacrifice after another and this last one was one Sam would never forget. Dean's fight might have been over, but the job was far from being done and now it was up to him to carry on. There was a time where he would have given anything to just walk away from it all, to turn his back on the life of a hunter and all that came with it, but things had changed. He'd changed. He took a deep breath as he unfolded the sheet of paper Meg had handed him, a note his brother had no doubt prepared in the midst of his current situation. His heart was in his throat and his stomach was in knots as he read what Dean had written.

____________________________

_Sammy, don't be mad at me for going through with this. This is the way it should have been right from the start. You were right about what you said, about me not wanting to end up alone but that's not why I decided to go through with the trials. I need you to understand that none of this is your fault. I can't change who I am and you know how hard I've tried. I stopped you from going through with it because I couldn't deal with you dying. I still can't and I don't think I ever will, you're my little brother and whether you wanted my help or not, I spent my life trying to do the best I could for you. So while you love me to the point that you're willing to let me go, I love you too much to be able to. Sorry but I just can't help it. I know things have changed between us and now that you're all grown up, I realize that I can't save you from everything. This won't make up for all the shit I've done or put you through, but I hope you forgive me anyway. Now with the gates of Hell closed and the demons locked away, here's your chance to kill off Abaddon. For Henry, for dad, for us. When you're done with the bitch, go after Crowley and Metatron. I know you can fix this Sammy. See you on the other side but don't you dare show up until you're as old and grumpy as Bobby was...._  
  
_Take care of yourself Sammy._  
_Dean_  
_______________________________  
  
He wiped the tears from his eyes as he folded his brother's note and tucked it away. "Damn it Dean." He growled to himself, his voice echoing in the rundown church. Deep down he always knew things would end like this, but he had never really prepared himself for when that moment would inevitably come.

********************************

"Dean, it's time for you to go." Tessa said softly, her voice doing little to get the young hunter's attention. He was sitting on the bench next to his brother, unseen and unable to do anything to comfort the other man. The longer they stayed, the harder she knew it would be for him to let go and leave everything behind. "Dean." She repeated, finally getting him to look at her. "It's time for you to go."

Though he offered her a nod, he didn't move from his seat next to Sam on the pew. It was too late for words now, but even if they could speak just one last time, he didn't have a clue what he would say. That he'd done it to save him? That this was just the way it was meant to be? That he'd gone through with the trials so he wouldn't live to see his little brother die? Writing the note was hard enough and it had barely even scratched the surface. Dean's gaze drifted down to his body on the floor as he wrestled with his reasoning all over again. Seeing himself laying there dead was surreal, but watching Sam mourn over him was heartbreaking. "Is he going to be alright?" He asked, turning his attention back to the waiting reaper.

"You already know the answer to that." Tessa replied softly as she made her way towards the pair.

Dean choked back the tears as he got to his feet, he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do and now it was time to go. "I'll watch over you Sammy." He whispered, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Always have and always will."

********************************

Sam straightened out as he felt what he thought was a hand fall upon his shoulder. He took a quick glance at the empty seat beside him, his breath catching in the back of his throat as the chill went down his spine. Though there was no one there with him he knew he wasn't there alone, years spent hunting the supernatural had left him with a sixth sense he just couldn't ignore. He wiped the tears from his eyes, first glancing down at his brother's lifeless body on the floor before looking up at the rose window. "Thank you Dean." He whispered, smiling through the pain and grief of it all. "Thanks for always being there."

The sound of Castiel's footsteps echoed in the empty church as he made his way down the aisle, Meg trailing him closely. He paused as they reached the front and Sam turned towards the pair, getting up from his seat. "Are you going to be alright?" The angel asked softly, his eyes catching those of the younger man as he approached them. Though he was caught by surprise when Sam pulled him into a hug, Castiel was quick to return the gesture.

"Yeah, I think so." Sam replied as he pulled away. He swallowed hard as he again wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Are you?" He asked, knowing this loss had not only been a devastating blow to him, but also to the angel they'd taken in as part of their family.

Castiel offered a nod. "In time, I suppose." He quietly started. "Your brother might be gone, but he will never truly leave us. He's done remarkable things and he'll always live on in memory."

There was a moment of silence and when Meg caught the young hunter's eyes, she couldn't help but feel her heart hit the pit of her stomach all over again. She was with Dean when he took that final breath, she owed him her mortal soul. The guilt was overwhelming but these feelings were all new to her again, and she would have to learn to deal with them. "Sam, I've said it to him but you need to hear it too." She said, her tone of voice dropping as their eyes met and the bitter past between them came to mind. "I'm sorry, for everything I've done to you and your family, your friends." She paused for only a moment as the breath caught in the back of her throat. After everything she'd done, it was a miracle Dean had given her a chance at all. Now face to face with Sam, she wondered if he would offer her the same. "When I was demon, I just couldn't help it. Everything I did to you, what I've put you through was..."

"I forgive you." Sam cut in, silencing her mid sentence. "We've all made mistakes, done things we regret or wish we could just take back. Trust me I know, but all the shit you've done, it's all in the past now." He said as he offered her what he could of a smile. "So just let it go."

"Thank you." She whispered as she leaned into him for a hug. Hearing those words from Sam was a weight lifted from her shoulders. Thought it had been years since she'd possessed him, she could still remember it so well.

Dean could have cured any demon but he had chosen to cure Meg, even after everything she'd put them through. What had led to his brother's decision was something Sam couldn't be sure of, but when he pulled away from the hug and watched Meg turn to Castiel, he knew Dean had made the right choice. Separating the memories he had of her as a demon would be hard, but he could already see that the woman standing there in front of him in the angel's arms had changed. "Cas, can you take Dean back to the bunker?" Sam asked quietly, catching the angel's eyes over Meg's shoulder.

Castiel offered the younger man a nod. "I can do that, yes." He replied, pausing for only a moment as he watched Sam turn to look down at Dean's body once again. "Are you sure you don't want one of us to ride along with you?" He asked quietly.

Sam hesitated as their eyes met. "No, I'll be fine." He replied. "I just need some time to myself, you know?" He swallowed the lump caught in his throat as the situation hit him all over again.  
  
************************  
  
The setting sun was long gone by the time Castiel and Meg pulled out of the old church’s parking lot with Dean’s body laid out carefully across the backseat of angel’s car. Watching as the tail lights disappeared down the road and the sound of the car faded off into the distance, Sam couldn’t help but feel his breath catch in his throat. This was real, Dean was dead and there was no coming back from this, that much he could tell by the look on Castiel’s face when the angel had draped his trench coat over the fallen hunter. He stood alone in the silent night for a moment before turning to the Impala that was still parked by the gate, right where his brother had left it.  
  
Sam took a deep breath as he made his way towards the car, his eyes instantly drawn to the silver light of the moon reflecting off its chrome trim. As he approached, his fingers closed around the car keys in his hand and his mind flooded with memories of life on the road with his brother. He'd spent years in that old car with Dean, they'd driven it across America countless times and had racked up the miles to prove it. Passed down to him from their father, the Impala had never been just a car to his older brother, it was a sanctuary and hunting wasn't just a job, it was a life. Growing up way too fast, they had left their youth behind them all over the map, in rundown cheap motels, dive bars, and dirty gas stations. Life on the road wasn't always easy, there were good times and bad but that was all just part of the ride and in the end, it was all the lives they'd saved along the way that made it worthwhile. Climbing in behind the wheel and sinking down into the well worn leather seat, Sam couldn't help but feel as if he were taking over a legacy.

He turned the key in the ignition and when the engine roared to life, Sam's grip on the steering wheel tightened. His gaze drifted over to the empty seat beside him as his mind started to wander again. He'd lost Dean twice before; once to the depths of Hell and then to the horrors of Purgatory, but neither had felt quite as final as this did. Maybe it was the note Dean had written or the circumstances surrounding his sacrifice that made it all so real, then again maybe it was the fact that he himself had traveled that very same road right up to the edge. He sucked in a breath as he shifted out of park and pulled out onto the dirt road, leaving that old abandoned church in the dust behind him. Moving on without the brother who'd always been there would be hard and learning to live without him would take time, but he'd somehow managed to accomplish both the last time he was faced with such a devastating loss.

With his eyes now focused on the dark road ahead, Sam couldn't help but let a smile slowly creep up to the corner of his lips. Though stricken by a sense of guilt, grief and loss, somewhere in the back of his mind he could still hear Dean's voice, singing along to some old 70's tune blaring from the Impala's radio. Castiel was right, even if Dean was gone he would always be with them.


End file.
